Children of Crime
by MegiieSue
Summary: When Dodger accepts a new apprentice for pickpocketing, he might gain more than he would expect.
1. The Next Best Thing

Year: 1836

Location: London, England

"Lawt'ie!" The words felt like daggers taken to the ears of the sleeping child. If she had to hear her name screamed through the paper-thin walls of the slum house someone was going to suffer.

"Calm down I'm co'in'!" The young girl rolled out of her blanket bundle from which she had hardly slept the night before. Her short, knotted, dirty blonde hair fell limp to her shoulders as she fastened on her white patched bonnet. It was unknown to her whether her hair was actually that color, or whether her lack of hygiene was the culprit for such disgusting conditions of every urchin living with the crazy old hag.

Moments later she found herself in the other room, confronting her unstable caretaker with a messy curtsey, " Yes your 'ighness" Her voice was sarcastic in tone. She dropped her khaki colored skirt, firmly placing a hand to her small hip.

"A Girl?" Lottie sharply turned her head to observe a boy probably by the age of 12, her eyes slim. Quick to capture her attention was a top hat hiding his messy brown hair. His cheeks were patted with dirt, much like hers.

"Do you 'ink I'd bring 'er 'ere if she dint 'ave promise? Miss Charlotte 'arrison, or Lawt'ie, the gal I've been yammerin about. I'm telling ya, she could be the next best thing!"

"I could 'ope not, Fagin. For my sake." The man gave a hearty laugh, throwing a hand to the boys shoulder,

"No one could take the place of the Awtful Dodjah! But, as me was sayin, this gal's got uh talent. The swiftness of a jackal! Wit yawr 'elp, she could become one of me best Urchins yet!" The boy inspected the girl with thin eyes, scanning her from head to toe. She wore a white bonnet, an apron, and what looked like a khaki colored dress underneath. Both her skin and clothes were stained with dirt, typical to find on a resident of the English slums.

Both children seemed not to be all that impressed with each other. Dodger appearing to still be just a foolish young boy at the age of 12. But he had earned quite a name, growing to become one of Dodger's best urchins out of his whole group. Lottie had found herself at Fagin's doorstep after being found by Bell, a fellow poverty stricken orphan, to which her swiftness when it came to robbery was quickly discovered by the mad man. It was especially impressive at her being 2 years younger than the boy, Dodger.

"Why don't you take 'er 'round the town a bit, Dodjah! Show 'er them ropes!"

"Veh'ey well! C'mon Lawt'ie!" With that, the boy left the shack, Lottie staggering behind. _You 'ave a lot to live up to._ It seemed that he had whispered something before leaving the shack, but she quickly brushed it off.

* * *

The girl staggered behind the boy, grabbing ahold of her dress as she ran. He didn't seem ready to slow down, or even help the girl at a moments notice. Overall he did not appear that impressed or thrilled to have a new girl to look after.

"First things first, 'ow 'bout you show me what you got." The boy came to an abrupt stop on the street, leaning towards his new apprentice to point to an unnamed receiver, " 'ight there seems to be awn easy one! See if 'e 'as anything in 'is pockets."

"Awl right." She nervously spoke. Up until now, she was sure of herself, but coming up to the actual thing seemed to send waves of uncertain feelings through her veins She had never actually pick pocketed, only practiced on Fagin during the game 'Pick the Pocket'. That was when he commented on her stealth being next to Dodger's level. But that was it, here goes nothing.

The girl approached the man, more silent on her feet than humanly possible. She held a hand out, reaching for a beautifully embroidered handkerchief. With two fingers, she grabbed a hold and slowly began to wiggle it out of the middle aged man's pocket. The girl gasped, she felt herself thrusted forward into the man's back after being shoved by a passer by. The man turned sharply, eyeballing the girl, then his possession that she held in her tiny hand. Her eyes turned to terror as she heard a scream from behind her sounding "run".

"Theif!"

The girl turned and darted down the road. She shoved different civilians making their own way down the road, shoving and weaving every chance she got. Her feet padded against the pavement, her lungs breathing as fast as she could. She was beginning to loose steam, relying on only adrenaline to escape.

Just in time, she felt a tug on the back of her dress pulling her into a dark alley way. Then a hand over her mouth. She screamed, wiggling until it was made known that it was just Dodger. He shushed her, leaning over to watch and see if the man had found them.

When the coast was clear, Dodger removed his hand,

"Nice goin. I don't know what in the hell Fagin was talking 'bout, you nearly got us caught!" A sudden burst of laugher escaped the girl's mouth. Dodger's eyes slimmed, his eyebrows tightening, "Whawt ahr' you laughin at!"

Her laughter calmed but still a huge grin remained on her lips as she help up the stolen handkerchief. The boys anger quickly turned to result in a grin to match her's, "I'll be damned, you got et!" He grabbed the fabric out of her hands, bringing it close to his eyes to inspect. He placed a hand on her head, messing her hair up,

"Maybe you won't be so bad after awl!"


	2. You say his name is Oliver

The bustling city of London in was littered with more than just hundreds of simple folk and wealthy aristocrats that morning. It was the year 1840. A year that seemed more grand to the young thieves than any year before. Throughout the filthy streets the common people went about their daily lives. Consisting of shopping, chattering gossip, also having their small amounts of change stolen right out from under their noses on the way to the Apartments. It would all be thanks to not just any Urchin, but the infamous Dodger. Of course not all of his success could be solely attributed to himself, for he would be nothing without his loyal lady partner four years his junior.

Days passed by in a familiar pattern. Fagin would send out the group of mostly young boys into the streets of the dangerous Victorian city on a quest to retrieve anything of value. Then, they would return home to enjoy a night of adolescent drinking and a meal served by their caretaker. Every once in a while they might be allowed into the Pub on a holiday just to get out of the cramped shack of an apartment. Only on occasion would they be allowed a day of break, but even then it would be spent on an activity that requires twice the energy.

Today the young trio of Dodger, Lottie, and Charley found themselves playing pretend games in the middle of the crowded road. How they appeared to be so innocent at play, laughing and rough housing with each other. However it was all an act, for whenever one might foolishly bump into an adult on their escape of being tagged, they would ever so carefully search the pockets of passersby with their tiny hands. Once they found their own pockets filled to satisfactory amounts of hankies and wallets, they began to take their stroll along the sidewalks with less intent on stealing and more on enjoying the sunny sky above.

Together the three walked, Charlotte 'Lottie' Harrison leading the way as normal. Often times Dodger would find himself talking bad about her to Charley literally behind her back when she would do this, calling her an "uppity snob". She could never hear.

When Dodgers eyes seemed to wander up to the shutters which burst open in the apartment above where Lottie was soon to be under, he half wanted to allow the girl to walk straight into the waste which was to be thrown onto the streets. He thought again, swiftly giving a yank to her back, pulling her away to allow the waste to splatter just in front of her. The girl's mouth opened wide as her eyes fell to the mass of goo. She frantically began waving her hands in front of her,

"Yuck!"

"Oy reckoned Oy saved your life!"

"It wouldn't 'ave murdered me." She protested to the boy who held his nose high. It always annoyed her how highly he thought of himself, and she gave a serious thought to shoving him straight into the unpleasant waste in front of them,

"Would you 'ave rathered yourself covered in that!" He pointed an accusing finger to it,

"Well 'ow do you suppose we get around?"

To that their under spoken company by the name of Charley Bates made his presence known, shoving past the Artful Dodger. He gave a half bow, offering out his arms for the young lady to take. Gratefully, she took it in hers as the two gracefully walked around. Dodger rolled his eyes, following the two,

"What 'as gotten into you, Charley?"

"I believe 'e is treating yours truly the way a lady 'ought to be."

"Oy don't see any lady."

"Excuse me?"

The young girl of nine years hopped up onto a wooden crate which sat next to a stall of assorted fruits. Here, she stood above the taller boys. In an attempt to appear important she pressed her fists to her hips, smiling down at them,

"I am more of a lady than any woman you'd eva meet!" She paused for a moment, lifting her index finger to her chin as her eyes wandered to the clouds above, "Besoydes Nancy."

"Please." She frowned, whacking the boy upside the head only to knock his black top hat off his head,

"I am! Don't you agree, Charley."

She spoke with a soothing tone when she directed her comment to the Bates boy, as soothing as any cockney accent could be said. The boy merely nodded with a huge grin on his face. Even he was smitten with the headstrong child. Dodger seemed to mumble the name Nancy to himself, deep in thought. Too bad for him both of the children were able to pick up on his voice even through the loud voices of every person around them,

"What was that, Dodgah? Something about, Naaaancy?" She exaggerated her name, leaning over on top of the crate with her fists planted firmly on her hips,

"She's off limits, She's Bill's property!" Charley chimed in,

"Oy said nothing about Nancy!"

"Sure, and I'm the Queen of England! If I didn't know any better I'd say you were smitten with 'er!"

"My eyes? On any lady but yourself? Rubbish!"

"That's more like it!" She curtseyed, continuing to sway her skirt from side to side with a single hand. The Artful Dodger bowed, offering out a hand to her as she jumped off.

This was the typical behavior of the two. To remain enemies at their first appearance was their goal, but eventually they would begin to joke around like the children they were. In such a short year they had begun to know each other so well. Know their behaviors, and how to get on each others nerves and good sides. He wouldn't rightfully admit it, but Dodger no longer held eyes for Nancy.

After he would normally talk about her to Charley, who obviously had fallen for the girl as well, he would proceed to disagree with her in a fashion which would result in a scuffle. But eventually they would end it with laughs and continue onward. Only, after the ordeal, he would find himself gazing at her with admiration for her as a person. She was one of the only urchins with a talent for thieving that was measurable to his. The competition allowed room also for infatuation. Also, although she was so young, with locks of dark blonde hair it was easy to say in her prime she could become the most beautiful woman in England. Dodger would heartfully agree,

"I know, we should play a game!"

"Pick the Pocket?" Charley questioned with a happy tone,

"No, stupid. I 'ate that game! I win too much." She winked at Dodger, who gave a laugh in response, "'ows about 'ide and seek!"

"Who's it?" He asked,

"Not me!"

"Not I either!" That left Dodger, who by the look of his face was not amused,

"Only for this round!"

"Count to sixty!" With that the two were off, her arm now detached from his. At first he began to count out loud, but then the gave it a thought. Maybe he wouldn't look for them. The idea was so sinister that he had to indulge. The sixty seconds passed, and he showed no intent on finding them.

* * *

"'ey Charley?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you reckon it's been more than sixty seconds?"

The two had decided to hide together in an alley way not that far from where they began. It was littered with empty whiskey bottles and stunk of the liquor too. But that was common and normal for the residents of the city, especially the young orphans who were raised on it's atmosphere. They sat close together, hiding behind a stack of crates much like the one Lottie stood on minutes before,

"Yeah."

"I bet Dodger left us!" She leaned over her left hip to look around the stack. She inspected the bustling streets in the distance, peering out as if she was glaring at Dodger himself,

"Lets not talk about 'im" She looked back to Charley in honest shock. Let's not talk about Dodger? It surprised her,

"Huh?" His gaze was directed at anything but her at the moment as he stuttered on,

"You know, Dodgah. We don't 'as to talk about 'im"

"Well what _do _you want to talk about?" A thin curved line formed on the corner of his lips as he turned to Lottie. She cocked her head in response,

"You're awfully pretty, Lottie."

"What do you want, Charley?" It had not caught her off guard that Charley was trying to swoon her. He always had a special look reserved for her, and it wasn't a look given to someone he may see as nothing but a sister like figure,

"Maybe a uh… a kiss would be…"

"No! Yuck!" She protested, sticking her tongue out as she squinted her eyes shut, "Dodgah's taking 'is sweet time. Let's go find 'im!"

Charley was obviously embarrassed for the rest of the day. He followed behind the shorter girl, a hand held behind his neck as his head bobbed in shame for himself. A task of finding a certain person in such a large and crowded city might prove an impossible task for the ordinary person, but not for a child raised in that environment. Not for a child who knew ever street name, turn, and location like the back of her hand. But when the two children came across their lost friend, he wasn't alone. He seemed to have brought a friend with him,

"Dodgah I 'ave the right mind to wring your neck! You left me and Charley alone!" She aimed a fist to his face, which he easily deflected to pull her in,

"And this, Olivah, is my one and only love, Lottie. She's a feisty one!" Without a second to register what had happened, the boy had planted a peck on her lips. She yelled in disgust, stomping hard on his foot,

"You… you!"

"And this is Charley!" He easily dodged her slugs, presenting a hand out to the Bates boy. Eventually Charley had to restrain the girl, painfully holding her back from trying to bring any harm to the man who stole a kiss from the woman he loved. He wouldn't argue it, however, he would never have the guts to stand up to Dodger. Although it was evident on his face that it pained him.

A few moments later, Lottie was able to regain herself. She smoothed out her skirt and readjusted her bonnet in a fashion to where she could actually see. With her Seafoam green eyes, she inspected the rather puny boy. He had hair like hers, and much to her surprise he was about her height. He was actually kind of cute,

"So you say 'is name is Olivah?"

"Well is it?" Dodger prodded the boy,

"Yes." His voice was so innocent, almost clear of the harsh cockney accent all of Fagin's urchins possessed. This caused Lottie to smile, as she perfected her tone of voice to match his,

"Nice to meet you, Olivah…"

"Twist. Olivah Twist."


	3. Can't We Ever Get Along

" 'ey, Olivah!" He entered from the other room. The young boy instantly appeared next to the caller for fear that if he weren't quick enough, he might receive punishment.

"Yes?" He responded, his voice as innocent as his aimed to be corrupted soul.

Dodger grinned mischievously, throwing his feet to rest on the table in front of him as he lounged on a very much ruined couch,

"Where 'er you today? Seemed we 'er missing our 'elp awl day, isn't that right Charley?" The very humorous boy leaned over the back of the couch as he inspected the orphan with much pleasure.

"Yeah, 'un less pain in our necks!" The boy burst into laughter, much to Dodger's dismay, he elbowed him in the chest, then directed his attention back to Oliver,

"What's that you got in your 'and? Another marked 'un?" He surveyed him with much speculation in his gaze. Oliver seized to respond, " Is that awl 'ou do awl day? Fiddle with rags? Hell, even Lottie can do that, what are you good for?" This time, both Charley and Dodger received the enjoyment in the form of laughter.

Oliver's expression remained stoic, although his mentality seemed to be dwindling every passing day as he received constant criticism from the gang. How he so desperately wished to escape. How he wished he had never met such the horrid boy who brought him to this new prison.

Dodger moved himself to reach under the couch, pulling out a long pipe to smoke on. Once again, he crossed his legs upon the wooden table before speculating Oliver,

"Take off my boots." He complied, as it seemed he hadn't much choice,

"Speaking of Lottie, are you 'ungry Oliver?" He placed the pipe in his mouth as he wait for a response. He opened his mouth, releasing smoke into the near atmosphere, "'ey Lawt-ie!" No response, "Lawt-ie!"

A light thumping sounded the hall as she made her entrance through the door from the upstairs part of the shack. Her expression was anything but thrilled as she sent glares piercing through the room to Dodger. She wore an orange-red gown, the color still faded as it neared the bottom. It was lightly knit across the chest, but otherwise plain as it possessed long sleeves. Her blonde curls remained the same, falling limp against her rosy dirt padded cheeks. She placed a hand on her hip,

"Yes your royal 'ighness?" she mocked. Dodger removed the pipe from his mouth,

"Why don't you fix us all something to eat."

"Yeah something good!" Charley chimed in.

"Yew seems to got two perfectly good 'ands!"

"The arrogance o' wo'en nowa days, you goh'a put 'em in place you do." He glared back at the girl, clearly not amused with the new found attitude. In the past Lottie had always been so timid, even now in the face of Fagin she would remain quiet and stay in her place. But lately she had been developing her own ideas of how she should be treated.

Dodger reached for his boot which laid untied on the table. He lifted it as if to throw, but paused as she lifted a finger, "Yew throw that and I'll whip you!"

"You best be in the kitchen, then!"

"Actually, Dodger, I'm not awl that 'ungry." she held a hand out to Oliver, as if to explain something to Dodger,

"See?" His foot met the middle of Oliver's chest as he kicked him to the ground. Lottie rushed to his side, quickly bringing him to rest in her lap as if to tend to him, asking if he was alright.

"Take it elsewhere!" He laughed at the scene. Lottie shot him a look. When he did not listen, she dropped Oliver,

"That's it!" She threw herself at the lounging boy. He put an arm up at an attempt at shielding himself from her pounding fist. She wrestled him to the ground, sitting on top of him as she continued to throw punches. He fought back though, hitting Lottie measurably hard against her arm.

"Children. Children, please! Can't we 'evah get along?" All four of their heads were lifted to see the old man struggle through the door, turning to close it behind him. Quickly, Lottie climbed off the boy, wrapping her arms around his neck,

"I don't know what you are talking about, Fagin!" She spoke surely and sweetly. He shooed her with a hand, blowing off her response,

"I saws it." Dodger ripped her arms off of him,

"She just 'ame afta me like a bloody animal!" He scolded, and Charley laughed, "She deserves a beating."

"Don't you worry, Dodger. She'll be goin out tomorrow a'y'ways." He scanned the room suspiciously, not exactly directing his stare to any one person, "Charley." He motioned him over as he needed to speak to him.

She rolled her eyes, standing up to brush herself off. She felt a sharp grab to her wrist pulling her back, herself pressed against the boys chest,

"You look very beautiful today, Lottie." She scowled in disgust, quickly pulling away from his grasp,

"It amazes me 'ow fast you can go from cocky to flirt." She made her way towards the kitchen, only momentarily shooting a look of sympathy to the poor Oliver who sat in silence on the ground.

The room fell silent as Dodger went back to smoking his pipe. Oliver looked back up to him, his eyes following the smoke rings he blew,

"Do you like 'er? Dodgah?"

"Who?"

"Lottie."

"'course not."

"Then why did you…"

"Don't let 'er fool you boy, she's the one aftah me."

"It didn't look that way."

"'ut your mouth. She's a good gal, and maybe I'd make 'er my wife someday. 'ew knows? But if you lay a 'and on 'er, well, let's just say you'll 'ave five less fingers"


End file.
